Distress
by keltieful
Summary: After an... incident during a diplomatic mission the relationship between Captain and First is changed forever. One-shot series. AU-ish. Slash.
1. Reunion in the Brig

**Yo! This is K/S. Fair warning. Not that I need to warn peeps about any of my heterosexual couples fics but whatever.**

 **So, I love Spock and Kirk. They are too cute. This is my first ST fic (and PWP?!), if I get anything wrong or whatever, feel more than free to tell me.**

 **:)**

 **Any** _"italics"_ **means the characters are speaking in Vulcan.**

* * *

May 2, 2262

* * *

"What's wrong with him, Ensign?" Jim Kirk's voice echoed loudly through the room, stilling the previous flurry of frantic disorganised movement. The security team had practically set up base in the brig, poised and ready for the barely controlled Vulcan to free himself and attack. Again.

Jim could feel the anxiety, loosely reigned, flooding the room and wondered how bad it was for Spock whom he knew felt and suffered behind that cold Vulcan logic.

From behind the blue buzz of the force field, a vicious growl travelled to Jim's ears. The faces around him all paled considerably and hands instinctively moved to the weapons holstered at their waists. Phasers, Jim noted, set slightly higher than stun.

"W-we can't be s-sure, Captain. He just suddenly snapped." The growling intensified as the young ensign spoke, scaring her into a trembling mess of limbs.

It was, of course, Jim's luck for Spock -his friend, ally, confident, second, cru- to be effected by some unknown sickness while Dr. M'Benga and Bones were away at a conference. When else would the universe give Jim the pleasure of seeing his anchor fall apart?

Rather than giving in to the _illogical_ impulse to yell at the poor Ensign in front of him, Jim squared his shoulders and gathered his fragmented courage. Facing Spock now would probably drain whatever he had left, leaving him bare before the eyes of his crew. He couldn't find it in himself to really care. Not when his Vulcan needed him.

"Spock? Hey Spock, it's Jim, are you alright?" Jim walked around the corner, blue eyes constantly scanning the area.

There was no Spock.

How could there be no Spock?

Realisation and dread seeped through his mind in equal measures as he slowly turned to see a closed door. The keypad had been ripped clear from the wall. The wires, rather than hanging from the hole, were twisted and rewired in a way that would prevent the security team from reaching him within at least the next half hour. Maybe more, considering most of the engineering team was on shore leave. And not just anyone could find Scotty.

 _First thing's first_ , he reminded himself.

Spock had escaped. He'd ripped apart the wall panels, gutted the internal circuitry, crawled through the space until he was outside the containment shield and kicked out another wall panel. And now he was loose somewhere on the Enterprise. And Jim was stuck in the brig.

As he made his way closer to the ruined door, something behind him creaked. Jim stilled instantly. What was the statistical likelihood Spock had drawn Jim in and trapped him inside the room for cupcakes and tea? Not very likely, he decided,wearily turning to face his feral first officer.

What he saw caused him to freeze.

Spock was crouched, as elegant and deadly as one would expect Vulcan's apex predator to be. Almost golden eyes tracked Jim's every move like the killing machine the Federation seemed to forget Vulcans were -are. He shifted forward slightly, transferring his weight onto the balls of his feet when Jim drew a deep breath and began to mentally berate himself.

Why had he thought he could handle this? Normal, repressed, bowl cut, science blues Spock made his mouth water. This shirtless, dangerous, sexy Spock was sure to be the death of him. Both figuratively and literally.

And since when did Spock have tattoos?

At least, that's what Jim thought the markings were. One could never be too sure with Vulcans. His sure seemed to enjoy constantly surprising him.

It didn't take long for Jim to get bored -or bold- and he'd decided to get whatever was about to happen over with as fast as possible. He'd never run from a fight and he wasn't about to start now.

As he stepped forward cautiously, hands raised with palms facing Spock, he studied the black markings closely. He deduced that it was a form of writing. What it said was anyone's guess. They seemed to shift with Spock's movements -feelings? thoughts?- the flowing script shimmering and dancing across his skin. It was beautiful and Jim was sure he'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted -needed- Spock now.

If Spock was concerned about Jim moving closer, he didn't show it. Dark honey eyes simply watching and waiting with that intense focus usually reserved for his experiments or, on occasion, their chess games. What he was waiting for, Jim was unsure. He'd never read of an event similar to this. Spock could lash out and kill him or want to paint him like one of his French girls.

" _Spock, what's wrong? I want to help. Let me fix this_." Flawless Vulcan streamed from Jim's mouth as he tried to reassure his friend. He belatedly realised he'd never told Spock he could speak Vulcan. It was a talent he used to his advantage. Jim wasn't the type of person to be kept in the dark. Understanding what was said when people thought he couldn't comprehend them; it was priceless.

" _T'hy'la? You have come to me. Why?_ " Spock's voice was a deep, strained rumble and his honest confusion broke something in Jim. Sure, he was known as a play boy. Most often, not even staying the night. But he wanted Spock there when he fell asleep. Jim wanted him there in the morning. He wanted to share meals and chess games and watch holovids and just be. Jim wanted Spock by his side forever and frankly, it had scared the crap out of him.

" _Parted from me and never parted._ " From the very depths of Jim's soul came the ancient words.

In the blink of an eye Spock was all he could see. His very presence made the air crackle. Jim breathed in the familiar scent and relaxed into his broad chest.

" _Mine_ , Jim." Through their every point of contact, he could feel the possessive heat of Spock's statement. He wasn't a possession, true but he let it slide just once. If he belonged to Spock then it was only fair that S'chn T'gai Spock belonged, in equal measure, to one James Tiberius Kirk.

With a smile, Jim sealed his mouth against Spock's and felt the brush of fingers against his psi-points.

What was the statistical likelihood Spock trapped them in the brig to marry him?

* * *

 **If anyone would like Spock's POV or a continuation, let me know. I'd be more than happy to oblige. Or a re-write with plot... it's too fast paced for my liking. Hm.**

 **Disclaimer: I clearly don't own Star Trek... better luck next time?**


	2. Xiili - Part One

**Oh shucks, people actually liked the last chapter.**

 **I'm open for any situation requests (telling parents, awkward Bones moments, etc.) So feel free to tell me what you want. Or give me ideas? I didn't really plan this out.**

 **In this chapter Spock is referred to as prince - this is like prince consort not son of the king. I think the Xiili will make more sense if you get that. If not, ask. I don't bite. Promise. c:**

 **So, without further ado, I give you... chapter two.**

* * *

February 12, 2262

* * *

Even since the landing party had walked into the room, Spock could tell something was off. His thought processes were no longer functioning at full capacity. It was getting difficult to remain fully in control of his emotions. His inhibitions had decreased. His eyesight had however, increased. Which was puzzling the Vulcan more than he was comfortable with.

Actually, now that he began to really notice, all his senses had increased in efficiency. With an inconspicuous intake through his nose, he could smell every individual in the room. And several who had clearly used the space within the last few days. He could pick up the minute changes in scent which indicated a shift in emotions. Nyota was feeling excited. Jim, curious. Dr. McCoy was clouded in the scent of anxiety.

It was fascinating.

If Spock's calculations were correct -and they always were- his hearing had increased by a radius of 13.85 metres. Even through the thick stone walls. Although their party was currently located in a cavernous, underground room. The vaulted ceiling allowed sound to disperse but there was a slight echo.

Spock briefly found himself wondering how the Xiili, a large, feline type species, dealt with the excess noise. Their hearing was certainly more sensitive then his own. It mattered little and he couldn't seem to keep his brain focused. Regardless, it probably had something to do with their speech. It was comprised predominantly by complex tail and forearm movements -discussion was about the only time the species spent bipedal- accompanied by low vocalisations. Jim found that it most closely resembled sign language. An observation Spock agreed with.

As it was, Spock was the only being aboard the ship who could understand and fluently 'speak' the language. Disregarding the tail movements.

The Warrior King arrived just as Spock began to catalogue the 'improved' sensitivity of his telepathy and he stepped forward, taking his place beside Jim. Any personal concerns had to be pushed aside for the time being.

" _Greetings, honourable King. I am the warrior known as Spock, second in command."_ From the smooth tail movements, Spock concluded that the meeting had come off to a good start. He knew that first contact had been tiresome for all involved. Humans didn't posses the right vocal chords for the aural aspect of the Xiili language.

" _Greetings warrior Prince. We welcome your clan to our home."_ The low grunts were accompanied by a soft purr and sweeping tail movements. The Xiili King was, indeed impressed. Unbidden, pride rose up within Spock. If this mission went well, and it was shaping up perfectly, the admirals would have further evidence of Jim's competence as captain. It would bring Jim happiness. Spock found he liked this. A lot.

* * *

"Man Spock, I don't know how you do it." Jim grinned across their shared sleeping quarters, catching his eye. In the semi darkness, Spock could make out Jim's every feature. From the golden glow of his hair to the bright blue of his eyes or the deep black of his regulation sleep wear.

For a moment, Spock was mesmerised. An occurrence which was growing more and more frequent in Jim's company. Although, this was the second time -the first being the Kobayashi Maru trial- it was due to his physical attributes.

"Captain, I confess I am uncertain of your meaning. Please elaborate." Spock watched as Jim turned on his side, peering at him through the dim lighting. The way he held himself was most intriguing. It took considerably more effort to ignore the unconscious positioning of the body separated by little more than a single metre; 1.19 to be exact.

"Speaking Xiili. I've tried and it's impossible. You took like, a day to learn and speak it perfectly." Jim's eyes were wide and innocent looking. In fact, he radiated a similar aura to young ensign Chekov. Had Spock still been feeling the effects of, what he'd learned was incense meant to boost awareness through long meetings, he would probably feel a similar 'hero worship' emanating from his captain's prone form. The implication of Jim's high regard was rather pleasing. Spock felt honoured.

Although, he reminded himself, he could only guess at Jim's thoughts. Which was an incredibly hard thing to do. Jim followed a path of logic more commonly found in ancient Vulcans or possibly Romulans. It was sharp instinct, impressive knowledge of body language and experience. While Spock remained impressed by all of his captain's attributes it had taken several meditation sessions to dilute the... anxiety surrounding the events in which a young James Kirk could have gained that experience.

"As Vulcans are descended from feline ancestors it is logical that I retain the ability to make the vocalisations required to communicate. Furthermore, our sharp senses and warrior inclinations provide me with a knowledge of the correct posturing and movements to understand the Xiili." Before he could finish, Jim had shot up from his lying position and moved closer.

"Wait! Vulcans are cats?" If Spock were more Human he may have been inclined to 'face palm'.

"No, Captain. In the same way Humans are not apes, Vulcans are not 'cats'." Spock could feel the huffs of air as he watched Jim try to control his silent fit of giggles. Some times Spock wondered about Jim's mental well-being. Perhaps he would have to speak to Dr. McCoy.

"Jim, Spock. When we're not on shift call me Jim. Hell, when we're sharing a bed call me Jim. Or babe. Sex muffin. Gorgeous. Surprise me." Spock had to make a conscious effort to raise his left eyebrow.

"Surprise-Me is an odd choice of name, Captain. Although, I will endeavour to accommodate your wishes." Spock felt the blankets shift beside him as Jim leaned closer.

"I was asking for that, wasn't I?" Jim's voice was quieter, his chuckle sincere but lacking it's usual warmth. It sounded sad.

"I do believe you were... Jim." Feeling the shift in atmosphere, Spock pulled the array of thick blankets up higher and settled down more comfortably on the mat. Beneath him the stone floor was hard and cold. It briefly brought back memories of a cave on Vulcan, curled up in I-Chaya's fur. He could almost mistake the warmth of the Human body beside him for that of his old friend.

"Night Spock." Jim whispered into the darkness.

Spock lay awake. It was hard to determine what he had done wrong. No one aboard the Enterprise understood the subtle Vulcan humour. It was fact. However, it was Jim who most often understood when he was joking. If Jim could read him so well, why was he still failing to apprehend Jim?

* * *

February 13

* * *

Returning the next morning brought better results.

The air still provided a stimulant to Spock's sensitive senses. It also seemed to relax the Xiili. A most interesting effect.

Jim was more than happy with the outcome of their talks. Due to the Xiili's feline nature, they required both time alone and time with their mate or close family relations. The frequent breaks, happening every one and a half hours, made the process take longer than necessary but worked in favour of the Humans.

It was during the third and last break before the evening meal that the Xiili King made his way to where Spock and Jim were seated playing chess. After watching the interaction, tail twitching in amused curiosity, he invited them to partake a traditional custom between King and Prince.

Spock turned and relayed his message to Jim who signalled his own acceptance, before packing up the board and standing beside his captain. The Xiili watched them for a moment longer, distinctly pleased, before turning and leading them deeper into the underground system.

Several times Jim sent Spock inquisitive glances. They had taken more then six different tunnels and come across very few Xiili.

"Spock, you don't happen to know what's going on, do you?" Jim whispered, leaning in closer than really necessary. His hand rested lightly on Spock's biceps and even through cloth he could feel Jim's emotions and quick fire thoughts. His mind positively whirred against Spock's own. Dizzying in intensity yet soft and warm. Something in Spock rose up, wanting to connect that mind to his own.

He shook it off quickly but made no move to move to break contact. His shields were still intact.

Spock glanced up and met the eyes of their host who was watching their interacting with rapt attention. No doubt because Spock had already informed them that neither were receptive to touch. Jim was allergic to the feline fur, of which the Xiili were covered. Spock had also mentioned his telepathic powers and their increase while in contact with their incense.

With a small, upward twitch of his tail (approval) he continued to lead the way.

It wasn't much longer before they arrived. The room was spacious and dark. Dark enough that when Jim's hand came into contact with his arm, he didn't shake it off. The small party stopped and without further communication he and Jim were left alone.

"Well, this is unexpected." Jim's voice was quiet. Much more subdued than usual. In fact, he seemed to be pushing his body much closer to Spock's own.

Spock looked down at his Human counterpart and raised an eyebrow. Normally it was enough to get Jim to explain himself. Now though, now Jim seemed scared. A quick intake of breath and his theory was confirmed. He smelt of fear. Which was... which was. Spock couldn't really remember.

He could feel Jim. His mind against his own. Comforting. He should comfort Jim. Jim was his to keep safe. Jim was his... his what?

A shudder rolled through Spock's entire body. He felt his controls begin to break down. He needed them to break down. How else could he take Jim's mind with his own and make him better?

Clarity hit him with enough force that he pulled away from Jim's grasp. He ignored the frightened whimper and walked backwards. He needed to be away from Jim. He'd been so close to betraying his friend. He knew Jim sought privacy at all times. If he didn't, others would know about his life before Starfleet. Spock would know Jim, certainly better than he did now. He wouldn't -couldn't- take something like that from his friend.

With that thought in mind, Spock continued to backtrack, heading further into the centre of the darkened space. Eventually he would have to hit the back wall or another exit or...

His feet fell out from beneath him and suddenly he was falling. For a few precious seconds he was worried. For Jim, about Jim. Never for his own fate. Then, he was submerged. The liquid was thick and clung to his body. His vision winked in and out. His control on his bodily functions shot. It took a moment to surface and when he did Jim was there. Spock surged forward, reaching for Jim. Their hands touched, fingers interlocking, minds no longer separated and everything went black.

* * *

 **I feel evil. The next chapter will be a continuation of this.**

 **I hope that eventually the story, as a whole, will make sense.**

 **So, penny for the song, lovely? Or thoughts? Mistakes? Ideas?**


	3. Xiili - Part Two

**Welcome back! Look at these snazzy updates. I've edited the last two chapters. Put in some dates so we can all know where we are.**

 _ **"talking in a language other than Standard. Can include telepathy."**_

 _ **'writing'**_

 **It's all in the punctuation, people.**

 **:D**

* * *

February 13, 2262

* * *

Jim had no idea what to do. His head was killing him. In his arms was an unconscious Spock. He took a few deep breaths, pushing back the fear. It would do no good for them now. There was nothing to fear if Spock was here. Jim wasn't _technically_ alone. Just mostly. That was fine. He was a Starfeet Captain. His first needed him. He could do this.

What he had to do was unclear.

"Ok Jim. This is fine. Just make a list. Like old times, remember?"

First, the Xiili King drew them here and left.

Second, Jim had done something which made Spock move away from him. Probably when he'd all but plastered himself to Spock's side.

Third, when Spock was moving away he feel into a pool of an unknown liquid.

Fourth, when helping Spock out of the pool, they both ingested said liquid. Which, Jim thought, tasted a lot like that honey herbal tea his mother made him drink. Perhaps a bit sweeter. Like caramel and chives?

Fifth, Spock had done something to his head. He'd felt him, when their hands touched. For a moment it was... perfect. Then Spock had blacked out. The loss of his mind had given Jim such a shock he'd dropped Spock onto the stone floor. The moment they separated he'd gotten this cracking headache. Pulling Spock back into his arms had only relieved some of the pain. For the moment it was bearable but for how much longer, Jim wasn't sure.

So basically, he was alone and wet in the dark. And no one knew where they were. Or could properly communicate with their hosts. Great. Awesome.

Of course, Spock would choose this moment to wake up and ease a few of Jim's fears.

Jim helped the Vulcan sit up before shuffling back and away. If his actions earlier had made Spock uncomfortable than he would keep his distance. Regardless of the pain it brought.

Not that Jim was alone for long. Spock moved across the space with surprising speed. To Jim's astonishment he suddenly found himself with a lap full of purring Vulcan.

Jim sat, stunned speechless as Spock rubbed himself against his neck. Once Spock seemed content with his work, he moved on to lick along the lines of Jim's collar bones. He delivered a quick nip to the point between Jim's neck and shoulder before knocking his forehead against Jim's.

"He's actually a cat. The water turned him into a cat." Jim ran his hands through Spock's dark hair, mumbling to himself.

"Who'd have thought Spock'd be a nice cat?"

* * *

It was another half an hour before one of the Xiili came back into the room and found Jim beneath the lazily purring Spock. Jim would have bet a million credits the bastard was _satisfied_ as he led Jim from a safe distance -Spock had started to snarl something fierce- back to their quarters.

Or rather, Jim directed Spock to follow the Xiili since he was busy being man handled, a.k.a carried, back to their room. The only thing that saved the day from being a complete failure was that the rest of the crew were already at dinner and therefore didn't see Jim's humiliation.

Even though being carried by Spock back to _their bedroom_ had been a bit of a running fantasy for the last few months. Or since he'd first spotted the imposing figure at his tribunal. Or maybe a bit before that. Like, that one time at the academy gym when Spock had been lifting three hundred kilos. No sweat. Oh lords, that strength. That, was hot.

Anyhow, regardless of Jim's reoccurring sexual fantasies, his first officer was still under the influence of some unknown substance. Which meant Jim needed Bones here. Which meant Jim needed to find his communicator. Which was nowhere to be seen.

Five minutes of fruitless searching later Jim surrendered to Spock's touch. It wasn't much more than rubbing, licking and the occasional nip anyway. Spock would eventually be his friend again. Right?

"I'm hopeless. Can't even find one com-" Spock's PADD beeped. The same PADD they'd modified to send messages to the senior bridge staff.

"I'm an idiot." Jim moaned, rubbing at his forehead to alleviate the building ache.

He untangled himself from Spock's body and grabbed the device before running back into Spock's lap. He snuggled slightly into the broad chest behind him as he waited for the thing to load.

' _Bones. Spock and I are in our room. I need you. Spock's acting weird. Fell in something. I feel, weird. Head hurts. Lost my comm. Hurry?'_

Jim had no doubt Bones would be able to fix them. In the meantime, he really wanted a nap. Or a hypo for his headache.

* * *

February 16, 2262

* * *

Jim awoke to the bright, clinical lights of sickbay. This would be the thirty-fourth time, if his calculations were correct, he'd woken from an away mission here. The fact that he'd only been on thirty-six away missions was unimportant. Regardless, it was kind of nice to have a little piece of Bones' domain just for him. Like a little home away from home. So he and Bones could spend more time together.

He loved Bones a bit like he loved Sam. But Sam had left and that had hurt so much. Would Bones leave like Sam? Everyone else had always left. George, Winona, Sam, Kevin, Reilly, Clara, Marley, Pike. Bones would leave, yes. And then Spock. And Jim would never ever ever ever ever be able to pick up the pieces.

"Doctor, I believe the Captain, although awake, remains under the influence of whatever pain medication you administered." That sounded like Spock. Did Spock always have a nice voice? It's all deep. And smooth. A bit like chocolate. Jim liked chocolate. He also liked Spock. Maybe, could Spock be chocolate on the inside?

There was something bright in his eyes. It didn't hurt but it felt bad. Kind of like that time when he was led from the dungeons and saw the sun again. That hurt his eyes too. But it was a good hurt. Like, he knew he was finally safe. Unlike the other hurts on that planet. They were bad hurts.

"Shit, he's convulsing. God dammit Jim!" Bones? Was that Bones? But didn't Bones leave him? No. Not yet. Bones was here and Spock was here. Wait, was Spock here? Was it Spock that left him? That made sense.

" _T'hy'la, I am here. Dr. McCoy is here."_ Oh. So, no one left? He wasn't alone?

" _You are not alone Jim. Never alone."_ Huh. That was nice. That was really nice. Jim felt all warm.

"Dammit you oversized, green-blooded hobgoblin. Get off my patient." So Spock was keeping him warm. That was really nice. Spock was really nice. Like, possibly even Jim's favourite. Which wasn't weird because Spock was everyone's favourite. Like that Romulan chick who wanted to marry him and the Klingon guy who was nice for a Klingon. He liked Spock cause Spock was super smart. And helpful. And funny. And he had nice ears. Jim kind of wanted to touch his ears. They were all pointy and green. Green was Jim's very favourite colour.

" _Sleep now Jim._ " Okay. That seemed like a good idea. And Spock asked him. And Spock said Jim. He liked Spock saying Jim. It made him feel happy. And now he should sleep because Spock always knew what was best, didn't he? Would Spock stay? He wanted Spock to stay and hold him close like on Xiili. That was nice.

* * *

"Aaaah, I feel like I've been hit by a truck. In the neck." Jim groaned as he awoke. He lay still for several breaths cataloguing each ache and pain. Huh. It was mostly his neck. Which would be Bones' tender love and care. Although, the whole left side of his body was unnaturally warm. Like he'd pushed all the blankets onto that side or something.

But then, why was that side also heavy? There was definitely a weight resting on his chest. There was also something brushing against his thigh. It was almost like someone was sleeping next to him.

" _Sleeping is the incorrect term but I suppose the assumption is fairly accurate."_

Jim stilled. He definitely hadn't said anything aloud. So, telepathy.

Spock.

Jim's body went rigid. Why was Spock in his bed?

Why was he in sickbay again? Because he had finally lost his marbles. Clearly.

" _Finally? It appears you have been expecting a mental breakdown of some variety. Would you care to explain?"_ Spock was laughing. In his head. Well, it was more like waves of amusement washing over him which felt distinctly like Spock. How an emotion could feel like a particular person was beyond him. At this point. Maybe later he'd nut it out. Now, he wanted ice chips, a glass of water and his own bed.

" _Very well."_ The bed shifted as Spock left. Jim felt an acute ache at his temple. Whimpering, he curled in on himself, holding his knees and squeezing himself as small as possible.

Warm hands were on him in an instant. They carded through his hair and stroked his face, neck and shoulders. Long fingers rested on his meld points and the pain receded.

"Spock?" Jim could barely recognise his own voice. It sounded small and painfully weak.

"It's alright Jim. I've got you. I wont leave you." Warm arms wrapped around Jim's body and gently straightened him back out. With Spock's help, Jim propped himself up against the headboard and drank from the offered cup. Blue sought out brown.

"I think I'm ready for that explanation now Mr. Spock."

"While we were on Xiili, we were exposed to a substance which lowered my inhibitions and increased all of my senses. Including my telepathy." Jim tilted his head slightly, considering the implications. Last time Spock lost control, Jim ended up in the sickbay with a litany of injuries.

"Just tell me what happened Spock." Jim felt a curling unease radiating from Spock.

"I don't remember much of what happened whilst under it's influence. I know that I came into direct contact with the substance. It destroyed my controls and my rampant telepathy bonded us."

Jim didn't know how to feel. He knew enough about Vulcans -there was that one time he broke into the V.S.A- to understand bonds. Family bonds, marital bonds, unspoken-pre-Surakian-super bonds.

A connection between minds. Sure. Spock was in his head. Okay. That would be good on away missions. Not so good when lives weren't on the line. Jim's eyes widened as shock permeated his entire system. He turned to face Spock.

"What about chess night?" The slight twitching of Spock's left eyebrow was totally worth it. Except, chess would be a whole lot harder now. Spock was the telepath. Spock was trained to use bonds. He'd easily be able to comb Jim's mind and unravel his deepest, darkest plans for chess domination. And like, his secrets and stuff. Great.

"Why does it hurt?" This time Jim was sincere. He'd never read anything about bondmates experiencing pain when separated.

"The bond is a lot, deeper, than usual. It needs to be stabilised." Jim blinked in Spock's general direction. Deeper than usual sounded important or something. Was that why he could feel Spock's emotions?

"Spock, explain things to me like I'm human and don't understand your Vulcan mind-bond-things."

"In ancient times the bond would be created and then consummated. The joining of mind, body and spirit settles the bond."

Sex. They had to have sex. That was normal. Totally normal. A bond was like a marriage. Why was he even freaking out? With an IQ of over 200 -236 to be precise-, Jim was far from stupid. He could roll with anything. Anything included sex with his first officer -whom he'd secretly been crushing on since academy days- so they could leave each others sides -even if they spent almost every hour of every day together- after being accidentally -ouch- married, by Vulcan and Federation law, on a diplomatic mission. Easy.

"My place or yours?"

* * *

 **To smut, or not to smut, that is the question? Seriously: sexy times? No sexy times? Reviews? No reviews?**

 **To my guest reviewers: I love you. I wish I could PM you with my other reviewers to tell you how much. Just know that your words and support make me super happy and want to write lots and lots of pretty chapters for you all.**


	4. Tarsus IV

**Short chappy, but not so sweet.**

 **Has anyone noticed this super fast update time? I've amazed myself.**

 **:b**

 *** Chapter contains gore/violence/abuse. You feel free to skip it if it's too unsettling for you. ***

* * *

 **2245 - 2246**

* * *

Jim raised a hand, halting the small group behind him. He listened intently, head tilted slightly to the right. Faintly, he could make out the sounds of something moving a few metres to the North East of their trail.

After he motioned for the group to stay put, Jim headed deeper into the forest. If he could scout ahead and relieve his kids from any danger…

 _Snap_

Jim's body dropped under the protective cover of the thick undergrowth. Not a moment too soon.

Booted feet walked within a few scant inches of his location. Close enough he could feel the brush of air from their movement. This was bad.

Jim watched in predatory silence as a squad of four soldiers closed in on his crèche. If found, his kids would surely die. Or worse.

Most of the children Jim found after Kodos' orders had already been damaged. Both physically and psychologically. He'd been too late for the majority of them. The guilt cut him up every time Clara suffered from night terrors. Or Kevin refused to let anyone touch him. Not a single member of their hodgepodge family -and yes, they were family. And yes, Jim would do anything for them- had escaped the horror of 'That Day'.

With careful movements, Jim began walking West, away from his group. His plan was risky. He was relying on Reilly to take care of everyone. Lead them in Jim's absence.

Jim would be the bait. Kodos had been wanting his pet back for at least three months now. Jim could do this.

He took a deep breath and began running with no particular direction in mind. He just wanted to be heard. Chased. Captured.

"Protect the children. Protect the children. Save the others." Jim mumbled to himself, narrowly avoiding a tangled mass of vines. Behind him, he could hear the sharp sounds of booted feet, crashing through fallen leaves. At this pace, it wouldn't be too long before they caught up. Kodos would have Jim. His kids would be safe. Starfleet would come. Starfleet had to come.

Eight months ago, on 'That Day', everything had been in shambles. People were dead. Everyone was so hungry. People panicked and Kodos rounded them up with false assurances. He killed them, everyone who didn't fit his bill of 'perfection'.

He had the soldiers take out those on the outstretches of towns first. Everything, people and pets included, was burnt to the ground.

In town, they were guided into the hall and told about the fungus. It wasn't anything new to Jim. He'd seen it. Watched it kill the birds and animals. The crops. And then, from the upper levels, the guards opened fire. A rush of bodies surged outwards, people crushed in the massive rush to get away.

Jim had taken the group of children he'd met in town and escaped through the ventilation shafts. They'd ransacked the houses for food and blankets and made their way into the mountains. It had been hard at first. They weren't used to looking after themselves. Several of the older kids rebelled and left. Only one made it back alive. Two of the younger children, Jack and Leo, got sick in winter and died. Sally was found by a scouting group of guards, raped and killed. She was thirteen. They lasted four months before Jim had to go looking for more food.

Which was when he met Kodos. It seemed, the crazed dictator liked the tenacity of the blue eyed wild child. It made Jim sick.

Nevertheless, they started trading. Jim would tell him where survivors -all adults whom he'd passed on the way into and out of town- were hiding and Kodos gave him food. Jim told him when he saw the fungus growing wild. Kodos gave him blankets. And when Jim had nothing to trade, except for himself, Kodos gave him the medicine his family so desperately needed.

* * *

After Jim was caught, tagged and taken to Kodos' mansion, his family filed in through the thick stone walls. It was Hannah. Hannah sold out their entire family for the false safety of Kodos' promises. She led the guards to their cave. She told Jim they needed to trek through the forest to a water hole she found. She set the trap and Jim walk straight into it.

But instead of getting the nice, safe family life she'd been guaranteed, she was led through the door with the others. Her actions laid bare before Jim.

His family were hauled into cells lining the walls. Their chains hooked into the wall. They were forced to watch as day after day, Jim was beaten, whipped and abused before them.

For three weeks this went on. Then, one morning -or noon, night; there were no windows to tell time- uniformed guards filled the room. Kodos walked through, grotesque smirk plastered across his features. Jim watched, eyes narrowed as the bastard strolled merrily toward the other cells.

Doors swung open, the grating of metal on stone echoing through the dim room and setting everyone's nerves on edge.

Two guards entered and pulled the eldest child away from the others. Which was Reilly. Jim's closest ally and confidant. Clarity flew through Jim's sharp mind with dizzying speed. He pulled at his bindings with as much strength as he could muster. He strained every muscle in his young body. Screams tore themselves from the deepest shadows of his soul. He screamed until his throat bled.

It was the first of a whole new brand of torture. A new type of murder.

* * *

By the time Starfleet arrived it was only Jim, Kevin and Thomas left. Three of twenty seven.

Jim's malnourished frame shook as the CMO of the USS Defiant led him out of the dungeon and into the sunlight for the first time in months. He swayed to the left and blacked out.

When he awoke they were already more than halfway to Earth.

* * *

 **Tell me what you think?**

 **:D**


	5. Phantoms In The Night

**This is for my Lovely friend. You know who you are. Sorry for the wait.**

 **This is totally unbeta'd. Send me a line if there are mistakes. My brain is not even...**

* * *

March 21, 2262

* * *

Spock never came back into himself in stages. It was the same when he woke. He was either deeply asleep or, in this case, completely engrossed in his meditation, or fully alert. As it was, he found himself thrust back into full awareness long before he'd finished his meditation for the evening.

It was Jim who brought him back.

Living with Jim had taught him many things. Most of Spock's discoveries were mundane, centring around the likes and dislikes of his mate. Then again, most of Spock's thoughts and actions centred around Jim. Some of his findings were more fascinating. Jim's mind was incredible. His thought patterns alive and often volatile. The most surprising thing however, was the flavour of Jim's emotions. It had most certainly been surprising when the usual taste of plomeek soup was 'seasoned' by Jim's sudden anger.

Anger was sour. Like a fresh yon-sava. Really fresh.

Right now Jim was feeling something Spock had yet to 'taste'. A quick look into the bond and he realised why.

 _Terror. Hate. Fury. Hopelessness. Betrayal. Horror._

Jim's mind was awash with the turbulence of his emotions. The emotional turmoil quickly became too much and Spock had to return to his own side of the bond and reinforce his mental shields. It took several moments of deep breathing and the repetition Surak's founding principles before the worst of the emotional transferral abated.

His hands still shook as he approached Jim's sleeping form.

From the outside one would never guess Jim felt any form of distress. He was clearly deeply asleep. He lay with his back to the wall, a pillow held close to his chest. It was a sight that often calmed Spock. His mate was safe and within his reach. It was usually a herculean effort for the Vulcan to tear his eyes from the sweet picture Jim Kirk made in his sleep. His ruffled hair and completely relaxed expression centred Spock.

Tonight, it seemed, was no ordinary night.

Without thought, Spock crossed the small space and sat beside his mate. His fingers curled around Jim's as Spock tried to telepathically ply him from his nightmares. When an additional 15.67 seconds passed with no marked improvement, Spock released his hands and began to gently shake Jim. Spock could feel slivers of anxiety slip past his shields as he grew more concerned. He clamped down on the emotion but the underlying worry persisted.

He needed Jim to wake up. He needed him to wake now.

Spock's fingers slipped over Jim's psi points, intent on reaching his bondmate.

 _Cold. So cold. Hunger gnawing at his throat. Pain exploding through his frail body. So cold. Can't sleep. Can't show weakness. Scared._

Jim's mindscape, normally so bright and warm, was dull and lifeless. Spock pushed further, flowing towards the scarred recess he'd never seen before. Jim was there. Spock could feel the fragmented thoughts and sensations escaping the abyss. Now he just needed to find a way to draw Jim out.

Concentrating on the bond, Spock fashioned a thick chord of golden light and sent it down into Jim's subconscious. The beam descended, revealing the truth of Jim's terror. Over every surface, soundless memories replayed themselves. Each one revolved around a young Jim. Some with a group of children. Some painfully alone. Each grotesque in their own horrid manner.

Spock watched as countless, untold horrors were performed before his eyes.

The rope gave up any pretence and began to burn.

The livid, flickering light revealed a raised platform. There sat Jim. Dark tendrils connected him to the images. They seemed to feed off his dread.

Spock felt his very _katra_ snarl like a caged beast. Even in the meld, his hands shook with barely repressed rage.

The frosted blue of Jim's eyes met his own. They widened, the slight glistening sheen causing Spock to soften. His bondmate was scared and upset. His own feelings would have to be corralled once more. He reigned in the pressing desire to explode and hurt those who's actions caused pain to his t'hy'la. Instead, Spock focused on the deep seated need to protect, comfort and support Jim.

With his emotions locked away once more, the beam turned back into a rope which contented itself rubbing against Jim. It loosened the hold of Jim's memories and wiped away the residues of their presence. Affectionately, it wrapped itself around Jim's waist and Spock hauled him back into consciousness.

"Come ashayam, away from this place."

Spock came back to himself slowly, carefully extracting himself from Jim's mind. He looked down at his Jim and watched as he peeled his eyes open only to slowly blink up at Spock. Awareness seemed to come over him all at once and Spock found himself on the ground, face aching slightly from it's connection with Jim's fist.

"What the fuck, Spock? Aren't there supposed to be rules or something about invading someone's mind like that? Or doesn't it matter; do I have less rights now that you're always in my head?" Jim's voice was low and angry, the statement piercing through Spock's still shaky emotional control and causing a dull ache, considerably worse than his face, in his lower chest. It hurt. For a few moments, Spock had allowed himself to forget that Jim wasn't his by choice. Jim didn't want him. Not as anything more than a friend and even that looked unlikely now.

Something must have shown on his face. Although he was sure his muscle control hadn't slipped and he zealously guarded the bond at the best of times. Jim sat up and leaned against the headboard. A hand ran through his dirty blonde hair before he sighed. The bond shuddered slightly as Jim plucked at it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's quite alright. I shouldn't have disregarded your privacy like that. I let my emotions rule my actions. I apologise, captain." Spock stood, straightening out his meditation robe.

"Jim. It's Jim, remember that sharing the bed rule?" Silence permeated the room.

"You said something about following your emotions?" Jim's voice sounded weary, like he'd almost given up hope. On what though, Spock couldn't draw any logical conclusions. James Kirk hardly followed Spock's brand of logic regardless.

"I felt your distress through the bond. When attempts to wake you failed I initiated the meld. My concern overruled my logic and I acted without thought."

Jim's eyes stared up at him, unblinking. Wonder and warmth flooded the bond. For a moment, Spock let it wash over him; sink into his bones.

Jim pulled back the thick duvet and patted the spot next to him, beckoning Spock to join him.

Warm hands found Spock's and pulled him closer as a blonde head rested on his shoulder. Jim wiggled for the next 3.74 minutes before settling. His head now rested against Spock's collarbone while Spock's left arm wrapped around his frame and drew him closer. Spock listened as Jim's heart rate began to slow.

"When I was thirteen, my step father finally found a way to get rid of me. My mum's sister lived on a colony. She said she'd take me for the summer if I'd help her and uncle Charlie with their experiments." Jim paused for a moment and Spock held him tighter.

"For a while it was great. Like, the best time of my life. Then the fungus came. The crops died. Everyone was living on rations. Everyone was hungry." Spock thought about the crippling hunger pains he'd experienced second hand.

"Then, one day I was out with Reilly. He was my first real friend. We were in the forest, passed the furthest farms, looking for food. Wild berries and mushrooms and whatnot. We could smell smoke and something awful so we raced over as fast as we could but we couldn't _do_ anything. They were in the house and we could see where they were trying to escape." In Spock's arms Jim shook with the force of his sobs. The pain in his chest increased.

"We ran back to town but everyone was being gathered in the hall. It was the only building big enough. Reilly and I met up with the other 'kids'. I thought- I didn't know they were herding us for the slaughter." Clarity pierced through the waves of sorrow and guilt. Tarsus IV.

"We got the kids out, spent ages living in the mountains. But the food we collected ran out. We had to go back into town and eventually Kodos caught me. He liked me. Thought I was plucky or something. We made exchanges."

Jim was hyperventilating, eyes slightly glazed.

"You do not have to tell me more, ashayam."

"Ashayam?"

"It is a Vulcan endearment for ones bondmate."

Jim smiled at him, features softened.

"Eventually we were trapped. Kodos tried to break me. When that didn't work, he began killing the others. Kevin and Thomas only made it out cause they were the youngest. But, we had to watch. Kevin took Reilly's name when Starfleet rescued us. The three of us were always really close."

Jim yawned as his tale concluded. From numerous points of contact, Spock could feel the sluggish movements of Jim's thoughts.

Spock rearranged himself into a more comfortable position and pulled Jim back into the line of his body. Nose resting at the crown of Jim's head, he inhaled his mate's scent. It relaxed his body enough for a contented purr to slip from his lips.

"nigh' Spock." Jim murmured, pressing back more firmly into Spock's chest. His arms tightened a little in response as he listened to the comforting beat of Jim's heart.

"Wani ra yana ro aisha." Spock whispered into Jim's hair. He finally allowed his mind to quiet, drawing on the bond to feel Jim's relaxed state. The young Vulcan only wished Jim felt the same. Spock had been lonely his entire life. He only wanted Jim to want him back. Was that too much to ask?

* * *

 **In case anyone missed it, _wani ra yana ro aisha_ translates to _I love you_. I thought it might be a bit more... powerful, meaningful, take your pick, in Vulcan.**

 **Also, don't forget Vulcan's age differently. For most of this story Spock is 32 which is _really_ young for a being who'll live like, 200-300 years. Think about it.**


	6. T'zaled

**T'zaled: ultimate loyalty; to be loyal to the end.**

 **Ne ki'ne: shield partner.**

 **To wallflower. I love you. Here is your chapter.**

 **This chapter was the death of me. Spock and feelings before bond is so hard. I wrote this three different times. I'm not keen on this anymore. If it's not too good, I'm sick. Sorry.**

 **Alludes to Into Darkness.**

* * *

December 6, 2261

* * *

Faintly, Spock could smell the soft perfume of his scented candles. The Jasmine reminded him of his mother's smile. Sandalwood was reminiscent of his father. It was illogical. It wasn't until his days at the academy, Vulcan so far away, when he first lit the candles and thought of his parents.

With little effort, Spock pulled himself away from semi painful thoughts and turned inwards.

It was most important that he organise his thoughts from alpha shift.

He settled in as the deep navy of his mindscape encased him. Bright memories flew past, time rewinding until he reached the particular moments he needed to review. The sphere was a mottled ruby, surface writhing under Spock's close scrutiny. He drew it closer, fingers outstretched. They made contact, sinking through the surface and the days events exploded behind his eyelids.

 _It was illogical, something Jim -the captain- might indulge in. It was everything he strove to keep at a distance. And yet, here he was, chest tight and finding the automatic regulation of his breathing become more and more difficult. To put it simply, Spock was worried. He had a 'bad feeling'._

 _Precognition, true precognition, was rare in Vulcans. So rare that even before the time of Surak the ability had faded into obscure folk lore._

 _And yet, there he was, standing on the bridge, with flashes of battle and pain and Jim. It was always Jim. Would always be Jim. He alone could bend the very rules of the universe and create something from nothing._

 _It should have no longer been a surprise when Jim summoned the long dormant abnormalities of his crew. Scotty bore the brunt of their captain's no-win attitude. In a week, that man was forced to pull off more 'magic' than anyone else aboard the Enterprise._

 _S_ _itting still in the cool embrace of the captain's chair -Jim's chair- Spock felt more than unsettled. The argument between Jim and himself, not an hour prior still churned through his thoughts. It had been a battle of wills, as their 'arguments' always shaped out to be. Would it be so difficult for Jim to listen to reason once? Why had he given in and agreed to let Jim go alone -with others, but they weren't Spock and could never keep the captain safe- when every molecule in his body was violently against it?_

 _If Spock had been human, he may have given in to the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Or just beam down and check on Jim himself._

 _The communications station crackled to life, the ensign manning it becoming a flurry of activity. Every member of the bridge crew waited, tense in their communal anticipation. When the ensign turned, pale faced, Spock suppressed the ache in his chest._

 _"They've requested immediate evacuation, sir."_

 _"Mister Sulu, you have the conn." Spock stood, slipping into a more predatory feline grace than he usually maintained. The feelings and thoughts of the Humans surrounding him coming into sharper focus. He was losing control. Just enough to know that Chekov and Sulu had bets on how hurt Jim would be before and after he was through with him._

The memory faded, detached itself and flew through a newly opened door. Spock saw it float down a hall, the walls plastered by coloured splotches.

Another memory, lime green, seeped through the navy screen and poured itself over Spock.

 _The turbolift doors opened and Spock stalked forward. Medical ensigns blustered through the hall. He paid them no attention._

 _He could smell it, long before he saw it._

 _The doors to the transporter room were wide open and from his position, Spock could see the blood. It was splashed over the transporter pad, pooled in the centre. He presumed that this was where Jim materialised._

 _He stepped back, allowing enough room for doctor McCoy, two nurses and a stretcher pass through._

 _"If you die on me, I'll kill you." McCoy growled as he stabbed hypo after hypo into Jim's pale neck in an effort to get some of his symptoms under control. Unlike previous times, Jim made no response. He lay, too weak heart slowing even as he was pushed through to sickbay._

 _Driven by instinct, Spock overtook the group and hailed the turbolift. Once again he stood back as Jim passed him by. The doors closed. Jim moved further away and it hurt._

 _Spock waited for 26.07 seconds before heading back up to the bridge. It was still alpha shift, no matter how his blood screamed at him._

 _By the end of alpha the headache he'd developed demanded meditation._

This time, Spock pushed the memory back and sculpted it into the customary sphere. He ordered the walls to fall and threw the lime sphere into the vault. It slammed against the wall, colour washing over the plain grey.

He sat back, wrapped in the warm darkness of his calmed mind.

Since the Kahn fiasco, Spock found himself illogically unsettled every time Jim was injured. Flashes of hands pushed against glass, blue fading, chest falling, head lolling. It was disturbing. As a Vulcan, Spock had complete control over his bodily functions. The 'slips' were unprecedented and distasteful. It was almost enough that he no longer wanted to be anywhere near Jim when he was injured.

Somewhere in the depths of his mind, something throbbed.

Mildly confused, Spock moved deeper into his mindscape. Beneath layers of his life, lay the centre of his being. It was here that he could see his parental bonds. His father's was emerald. His mother's broken strands, once a soft musk pink, now lifeless grey. T'Pau's familial bond was a rich burgundy. The links to every living Vulcan left ranged from cyan to steel blue.

However, these weren't what caught his attention.

In the centre of the wellspring of his katra a new link flowed into the nether. The orange strands floated from the centre of the pool.

* * *

Spock opened his eyes and blinked twice. From his early childhood, he'd been interested in the ways of his ancestors. His unusual telepathy had prompted his exploration of pre-Surakian ways. After the death of his planet, it was likely he was one of the last custodians of that aspect of their culture. Barely anyone knew ancient Golic when he was a child. Only the priestess of Gol had known enough of the rights to teach him of their more obscure warrior traditions. Just as Alveria had said, the information was finally being put to use.

After blowing out the candles and storing his mat, Spock strode over to the door. It opened to Nyota, her hand hovering over the call button.

"Spock, I'm sorry. The shot was meant for me." He watched as she wrung her hands, guilt and sorrow clear in her eyes.

"Apologies are illogical, Nyota." Before he could walk past her, a hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"No Spock, I promised he wouldn't get hurt." Without looking at her, he loosened her grip. Promises were illogical.

Without looking back, he entered the turbolift and travelled to sickbay.

"I don't care what you think Jim, you're not leaving this bed. I don't even know why you'd want to go see the damn-" McCoy turned as Spock opened the door to Jim's private room.

"Oh no you don't. Get out of here. I thought you were alright after that crazy but no. Alpha finished over an hour ago. Why weren't you here then?" Spock watched as the doctor's face progressively got more flushed.

"Alpha finished approximately 3.57 hours ago, doctor. I have many duties aboard the Enterprise. I have also taken on the captain's responsibilities while he is unfit for duty." Spock pushed down the amusement as McCoy's eye began to twitch spasmodically.

"Why you damn green blooded hobgoblin, I have no idea why Jim puts up with you."

"I share similar sentiments about the captain's association with yourself, doctor."

Before McCoy could reply or explode, whichever came first, Jim coughed.

"Ah, give us a moment Bones." With a growl and a final huff, the doctor walked out into sickbay, muttering to himself.

"OK Spock, what's up?"

Spock took the time to look over Jim properly. Bandages wrapped around his chest, the white contrasted to the blue grey pallor of his skin. On the biobed, Jim looked fragile. Unbidden, an almost kiss rose in his mind. So close and yet so far.

"Captain, if you plan to continue participating on away missions, I will be joining you. The statistical likelihood of you surviving increases by 97.86% when I am in your presence." Spock's arms moved behind his back, right hand clasping his left wrist.

"Spock, you don't have to treat me like a petulant child. I'm fine. I don't always need to you there."

"Have you ever thought that it is I who needs you there?"

Spock paused, like so many conversations with Jim, he'd stopped planning his answers and said something without thinking.

"You are my ne ki'ne. I will not be without you."

"S-Spock?" Spock looked down into wide blue eyes and noticed the pink flush across high cheekbones.

"I cannot lose another bond, captain."

The silence was only broken 3.02 minutes later when McCoy returned.

"OK. You, out. Jim, you need more sleep." McCoy pulled a hypo from -seemingly- nowhere and gabbed it into Jim's neck. Spock took that moment to escape the confines of sickbay and head to the science labs. He wasn't lying about the increased workload. At some point he would have to write out the mission report and schedule a time with the admirals.

"You alright kiddo? He didn't break your-"

* * *

Finished with his rounds, Spock headed back to his room and collected the three PADD's he required for the night. He walked through the halls, crew members moving out of his way and snapping to a sharp attention.

The automatic doors slid open, admitting him to the medical bay.

Without drawing attention to himself, he slipped through to Jim's room and pulled a chair up not far from the bed. He glanced at the sleeping form briefly before setting into his work. It was going to be a long night of paperwork.

Starfleet had recently changed their policies and included an additional sixteen pages of regulations. As first officer, it was Spock's job to work through the document, memorise the new information and collaborate with communications to ensure the new rules were accessible to the crew. The senior staff would then have a briefing, organise and revise the information before splitting into their individual departments. As a department head, he then had to organise a meeting with all science personnel, distribute the information and answer any questions. It would be a long week.

In addition, as acting captain, Spock was now required to submit the mission and subsequent incident reports.

Jim certainly had perfect timing.

Long fingers flew over the keys of his PADD, brown eyes briefly glancing up to read through Jim's patient chart and grab another PADD from the trolley. He worked for almost an hour, translating medical terms and looking over reports from security and lieutenant Uhura.

Spock briefly wondered if there would be any merit in suggesting cadets in the security track take a compulsory communications course. He entertained the notion and set forth his argument, namely time management for senior staff. If everything was concise and ordered chronologically, their individual reports could be sent straight through to headquarters. He wouldn't have to rewrite everything, state the logic behind every command decision and subsequent protocol adherences or breaches.

By the time he'd finished, 02:45:32 ship time, he'd worked the report into something which reflected the commendable effort of the away party and explained away the infringement of six different regulations.

Beside him, the pulses picked up by the electrocardiographic monitor began to spike. Jim's body twitched. Concerned, Spock leant closer, hand outstretched with the innate urge to comfort. Jim flailed, hand wrapping around Spock's own.

Intent on disentangling himself from Jim's surprisingly strong grip, Spock stood and looked down into clouded sapphire eyes.

"'ock?" With his free hand balled into a fist, Jim rubbed at his eyes sleepily. Spock tugged his arm away lightly, careful not to upset his semi conscious captain.

"Don't leave, Spock. Please." Jim blinked slowly, fighting against the sedatives pumped through his bloodstream.

Spock leaned away, twisted his body and hooked his foot under his chair. It scraped unpleasantly across the floor before knocking into his knees. With little of his usual grace, Spock sunk into the chair. Jim smiled blearily and snuggled deeper into the thick hospital blankets, still holding Spock's hand hostage.

It was three hours and fifteen minutes later when the hiss of the automatic door woke Spock.

He opened a single eye and watched as McCoy stood in the doorway for 6.07 seconds before entering and checking over Jim's vitals. Spock continued to watch the doctor as he moved about the room, injected Jim and left grumbling about hobgoblins and idiot best friends.

After an additional 2.38 minutes, he bustled back in carrying two thick blankets. Without a word, he threw them over Spock and left, pausing briefly at the door to look over the room with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

With his departure, Spock allowed himself to relax.

* * *

 **If anyone's interested, _alienated-alien's 'Encoded'_ has me addicted and _SakuraMinamino's 'Plugged In'_ is just amazing. Spock's markings from chapter one were inspired by that fic.**

 **They may have also contributed to the longer wait for this chapter. Just a little...**

 **:D**


	7. Ashes to Ashes

**Sorry for the delay, I've been very sick. Hospital style. Advice: if you're feeling ill, seek professional medical help. Don't wait for over a month and let it turn into a crazy super infection. Be healthy kids.**

 **I also lost all my notes. I just found them. Literally, two minutes ago. So now you can have this.**

 **This is an angst warning. Angst ahead in the form of one Jim Kirk. Be warned.**

* * *

March 30, 2262

* * *

Jim stared resolutely ahead, heart awash with pain. Somewhere, in another room of this alien building, Spock was sealing their fates.

Three days before, the Enterprise had finally entered New Vulcan's orbit. Their simple mission, running dignitaries and much needed supplies, was over and Starfleet had allowed the crew a few days shore leave. The next 24 hours had been a flurry of crew rosters and reports. It wasn't until Spock had forcibly removed Jim from his ready room and dragged him back to their quarters that the stress and anxiety waned enough for Jim to sink into unconsciousness.

When he had awoken, Spock led them down to the planet, bags packed to stay with Ambassador Spock - Selek - while they met T'Pau and dissolved their bond.

Actually, the fact that Spock had thought ahead and organised to stay with his counterpart was... touching. Sarek intimidated Jim like nothing he'd ever encountered before. It probably had something to do with their disastrous first meeting.

Having been inside Spock's head, Jim knew he hadn't explained to his father what bought forth such a violent reaction. However, with the knowledge that Spock hadn't mentioned the taunts about their planet and his mother came the certainty that Sarek already understood exactly what Jim had used against Spock.

Scenes of childhood bullies and racism that honestly surprised and disgusted Jim, raced through his mind. He saw bloodied fists and broken noses. Much bigger, older kids pushed back into learning pods. He felt Spock's pride and a fierce, unyielding love.

The same love he would do anything to receive.

Before they'd been bonded, Jim thought he could settle for epic friendship; for the warmth and trust he'd been submerged in on Delta Vega. Now he'd had a taste of everything Spock had to offer, the companionship and loyalty, their link, warm arms keeping him safe at night and warm eyes and soft touches come morning. He'd been given a sample and now he ached. He ached for it all to be real. To be _his_.

Who would have ever believed, James Tomcat Kirk, all around ladies man, Casanova of the academy, would fall in love? With a Vulcan, no less. The same Vulcan who was currently standing before the High Council to have their bond broken.

Jim bit down on his lip, feelings of hurt and worthlessness rising within him. Briefly, he let his features display the truth of his emotions to the empty room. Lips pulled back into a self deprecating smile, blue eyes dulled with exhaustion and melancholy. When would he finally learn?

For as long as he could remember, he'd been abandoned.

First by his mother - George could never count - the call of space too loud, effectively drowning out the pathetic cries of her own flesh and blood.

Then there was Sam. He hadn't even considered taking Jim with him when he'd run off.

Did Frank count? He'd only ever been an abusive asshole but he was _meant_ to be a father figure. A dad.

Next came the whole Tarsus... thing. Should he feel abandoned by the only people he'd ever felt appreciated by when they'd had no choice in the matter? Probably not, they hadn't put themselves on the kill list. It didn't change the fact that he did.

His first real, meaningful relationship. He'd been smitten, wanted to marry her and everything. It had ended suddenly when she threw herself off their fifteenth story balcony.

So Jim had tried to stop feeling. He had one night stands with whoever was willing and drowned his misery and self hatred in alcohol and bar fights.

And then Pike came barrelling into his life. He'd given him the same speech as everyone else who'd ever seen his off-the-chart scores. However, Captain Pike had seen something no one else had ever bothered to look for. He'd seen past the criminal record, the brilliance and George Kirk. For a second, a fleeting moment, someone had finally seen _Jim_. It was more exhilarating than anything that had ever happened before.

It had only taken a split second for Jim to decide to smash through Starfleet. To 'beat' his father at his own game. To finally get people to see _Jim_. To have meaning and matter.

When Spock walked into his life, long before the Kobayashi Maru, his heart finally began to beat.

It was the first time since joining the academy that Jim was disappointed he'd tested out of Xenolinguistics, having been taught Andorian, Klingon, Orion and Vulcan on Tarsus IV. Hoshi Sato had been one of Jim's favourite people on the colony and days spent with her, learning new, exotic languages and the cultures which sculpted them was a treat for Jim's sharp mind.

So Jim took several martial arts classes, weapons training and became the Treasurer of the Xenolinguistics Club in an effort to be closer to the gorgeous Vulcan. The sleeping around ceased. Rumours did not. At first it was mildly amusing that after Jim stopped the mindless encounters, the more people claimed to be sleeping with him. He wasn't really sure how people had believed the wild stories. When did they think he had the time to do his course work?

The petty rumours did serve to once again highlight his worth.

At Starfleet, he'd put in 100% and yet people still refused to accept him. The friends he thought he'd made, turned their backs and accepted hearsay. Only Bones stuck by him. Partly because he knew Jim's hectic schedule. Partly because he'd been there when Jim broke into the VSA's data banks to research the finer points of Vulcan culture and history. Jim had read about monogamous, bonded relationships and swore off his weekend ritual of casual sex. He read about the ancient Vulcan ways of attracting a mate through shows of strength, courage, loyalty and intelligence and decided to beat the Kobayashi Maru.

He'd desperately tried to gain Spock's attention and respect over and over again. In the beginning of their mission, it had been a constant struggle. One step forward and 15.43 steps back. Figuratively and literally. The most obvious being his demotion for risking everything to save Spock's life.

And then Kahn happened.

In his final moments, Pike had seen _Jim_ again. And when he'd been trapped in the radiation chamber, Spock had seen him too.

It had been oddly nice, in those moments, to press his fingers against the glass and see Spock try to reciprocate his kiss. Jim could ask for nothing more than to die with Spock by his side; that warm buzz just on the edge of his consciousness.

When Jim had woken, the entire world had taken on a strange hue. Everything was super focused and Jim could feel the emotions pouring off the people surrounding him.

Bones had been a ball of relief and triumph. In the waiting room, Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov were just about bursting with nervous, hopeful energy.

Spock had been a blank spot. He could feel something yet couldn't identify it. The only thing similar was the electrical buzzing the Vulcan broadcasted which, Jim had come to realise, was simply due to his telepathy.

The Vulcan's eyes, those perfect brown eyes, however showed the slightest hints of affection and satisfaction. It brought forth a burst of warmth which settled into Jim's too cool skin and sunk into his very bone marrow.

Tales of Kahn's defeat both lifted his spirits and crushed them. Spock, using all that incredible - sexy - strength and crazy, ancient Vulcan fury to exact revenge? Kind of awesome and totally hot. Uhura being the only person who could reign in his blood lust? Not so much. It perplexed him. Why had they broken up so soon after Kahn had been captured when Spock had clearly shown how much Uhura meant to him? Wasn't that exactly what she'd been complaining about?

In the year after the attack - and his death - Jim had turned to Spock for guidance. He'd practically lived in the extra protective Vulcan's pocket as he sought to control the after effects of Kahn's super blood. He had experienced about a 30% increase in his sight, strength and hearing as well as the increased empathetic powers. Spock had to teach Jim how to shield his mind and control his strength. He'd even had to learn how to speak at the right volume and be slowly reintroduced to noisy, crowded places.

Through it all, Spock stood by his side.

Spock had become Jim's most important, most precious person. Bones was his best friend, no doubt, but Spock was something else. He was in a league all of his own. A place no one could ever touch.

Their nightly meditation sessions and weekly chess games meant the world to Jim. Even their arguments on the bridge - in the turbolift, mess hall, rec rooms, gym, engineering, cargo bay, labs, transporter room, sickbay - were important. Mostly because their fights never came back to their adjoined quarters with them. It never failed to make Jim feel special and safe. Worth fighting for.

That had all been a dream.

In the here and now, Spock was leaving him. In a few minutes Jim would be lead to T'Pau and their bond - their precious, amazing bond - would be ripped apart. Destroyed.

Jim held back another sob.

The door opened and two Vulcan's stepped through. As their eyes found Jim's, they gestured for him to follow. He was lead down a high arched hall and into what looked like council chambers.

Near the raised platform Spock stood, tall and proud, completely at ease in his natural habitat. He would make an excellent council member one day.

Jim walked through the near empty room, eyes focused on Spock. If he looked around and caught sight of Sarek's disapproving glare, he might just turn and high tail it out of there.

"James Tiberius Kirk of Earth, you have come before the Lady T'Pau, matriarch of the House of Surak, to formally break your bond to S'chn T'gai Spock of Vulcan. Is this correct?" Jim swallowed, throat tight. He didn't want this. He didn't want this! Spock, help!

"That is correct." Jim's voice was calm and even, his tone hiding the true extent of his emotional distress. It surprised him, hearing his own voice sound so calm when on the inside he was screaming. Why did Spock not want him? Why had no one ever wanted him?

"Please, come before me."

Following Spock's lead, Jim moved forward and knelt before the wisened Vulcan matriarch.

"I will have thy minds." She placed weathered fingers against their psi points, slipping into their minds like water. It felt, not uncomfortable but different. Spock simply fit into his mind like a missing puzzle piece or the blanket you finally find at the foot of the bed, thrown over your shivering form. His presence was warmth and safety. T'Pau was more of an extra.

Jim felt her moving through his mind, brushing against his shields but never breaching them.

 _You are much more than you appear, James Tiberius Kirk. It is a shame you are leaving our House._

Jim felt a slight shock as the stern looking woman voiced her approval of his character. Alien amusement drifted from the unfamiliar mind.

They travelled together in companionable silence until they reached the bond. Instantly, Jim felt the panic and desperation from before, raise back up.

 _It is alright. It is just the bond's way of protecting itself._

T'Pau's mind moved forward and Jim felt her caress the link to Spock's mind. Her gentle wonder filled his mind.

 _You must pull for it to be removed. I can only guide and heal. This must be done by your hands._

Jim felt his fear spike. He didn't want to. He wanted Spock. He loved Spock.

And just like that, it all feel into place.

He had to let Spock go. Jim simply had to step aside and be happy with whoever made Spock happy. Because he loved him. More than anything. Certainly more than himself. He was nothing without Spock and the Vulcan deserved more than an accidental bond to a man he didn't love.

Jim grabbed the bond with both hands and pulled.

It snapped. The strands tethering his mind to Spock's untangled and turned to ashes. Vaguely, he could hear someone scream. The pain in their voice made his whole mindscape shudder.

T'Pau gently soothed the raw ache and began to pull away.

 _I look forward to our next meeting, James Tiberius Kirk. You are always welcome in my house. Live long and prosper._

With her parting words, she left his mind completely and Jim knew nothing more than numbing blackness.


	8. Ovsotik

**This chapter is porn. It's smut. It's boy on boy sexy times. It's the first time I've written this sort of thing. It's for Lover, whom I hope is still reading this. It's something I would appreciate feedback on, please?**

 **Ovsotik: perfect and complete in every respect**

 **Plak tow: blood fever - Vulcan 'heat'**

 **Koon-ut-kal-if-fee: marriage or challenge**

* * *

February 17, 2262

* * *

Spock could resist the bonds pull no longer. The avid desperation in his blood. In fact, if he had less control over his emotions, he would have found himself surprised by his own ability to hold out against not only the bond's need to be settled but also the pure lust radiating off his best friend and his own desire. Although, if he did have less control, Spock would have taken his mate as soon as he'd been given the 'OK'.

Contrary to popular belief, Vulcans did not mind an audience when first consummating their marriages. Through the fires of the Plak Tow, males were often too desperate to comprehend the world outside their mate. The Koon-ut-kal-if-fee, often attended by the entire clan, ensured both parties were consenting throughout the whole process.

Spock strode forward and pulled the captain into the hard line of his body. His hands clutched possessively at Jim's hips, Spock leaned down, closed the remaining space between their lips and claimed what was his.

 _Mine. Mine. Mine._

Jim shuddered beneath him, an unconscious whine rising from the depths of his chest. Spock let their lips meet, again and again, drowning himself in the oasis of _Jim_. Plush lips parted as Spock ran his tongue along their seam. He dived into the wet cavern, eagerly exploring the unfamiliar terrain. His tongue battled with Jim's briefly before leading him back into his own mouth.

They pulled apart. Spock looked down at his mate, taking in the glazed blue eyes, flushed cheeks and red, bruised lips. He growled appreciatively at the sight of his dishevelled partner. Jim was panting, trying to gulp down much needed oxygen. Sensing his need for more than a quick, meaningless fuck -bond be damned- Spock leaned forward and ran his nose along Jim's, conveying feelings of affection and warmth. He planted a series of kisses, feather light, along Jim's forehead, down his cheek, to the corner of his lips and along his jaw.

Another soft sound, this time a gasp, escaped Jim's lips. Spock picked up his mate, glad when long legs wrapped around his waist. He carried his precious bundle behind the dividing wall and into his bedroom.

As Spock placed Jim gently on the bed, soft human fingers roved over his slanted eyebrows. It drew forth a deep purr, surprising the young man. Lust peeled back, revealing curiosity in those stunning blue eyes.

Spock placed his palms on the bed, toeing off his shoes before inching slowly up his mate's body. He began to purr once more when Jim wrapped his hands around his shoulders and pulled him down into the cradle of his body.

The heat between them was incredible and the bond crackled with their combined need. Spock could feel the lust, tinged with affection, pouring from Jim's katra. It fuelled his own.

Jim's hand found Spock's and intertwined with it, a flurry of pleasure racing along both men's arms. Spock drew their connected hands up to Jim's face. His knuckles grazed the younger man's psi points and Jim lit up beneath him. It was a heady feeling, being the one to see Jim like this. To touch what he'd previously though was unattainable.

They kissed again, languid and smooth.

Their hands disentangled and began to explore.

Spock reached for the edge of Jim's shirt, pulled it off with an efficient jerk of his wrists. The accompanying tearing sound was unexpectedly satisfying. He crawled down Jim's body, lips attacking the newly exposed skin with nips, licks and kisses.

When he hit a spot which was particularly sensitive, he would suck a dark bruise to mark his place. He was quickly learning that Humans were rather sensitive creatures and Spock sought to discover every spot that gave his Jim pleasure. Jim reacted particularly when Spock's rough tongue ran over and over his nipples. It was something Spock pledged to explore later, when their bond had settled and everything within him was no longer screaming to take what was his.

When he reached the waistband of Jim's Starfleet issued pyjamas, he caught Jim's gaze and waited until he nodded his assent.

With precise movements, Spock slid his thumbs under the thin material and yanked off both the pants and black boxes beneath them. His brown eyes roved over Jim's golden form until he began to squirm and a certain nervousness transferred through the bond.

Settled at Jim's feet, Spock felt a mild confusion. Did his beautiful mate not realise how perfect he was? Had Jim truly not known the extent of his feelings? Spock had been sure, with all Jim's talk of 'badass friendship', that his friend knew of his own feelings and simply didn't want a romantic relationship with him. The way Jim responded to his touches, both physical and mental, suggested otherwise. Although, it could be the influence of their bond.

Spock closed his eyes briefly, pushing away the negative thoughts and opened them to see Jim pressing himself back against the bed in an illogical attempt to sink through it. Spock quirked an eyebrow and picked up Jim's left foot, placing a series of light kisses up his ankle.

A small keening sound was pulled from Jim's sweet lips as Spock made his way up Jim's leg, peppering it with kisses. He could feel the contentment flowing from his Jim, replacing the cold uncertainty which had settled in his mind.

He kept up his loving ministrations, worshipping Jim's body with lips and tongue until his mate was a mess of moans beneath him. When he reached the apex of Jim's thigh, he began all over again on the left side, slowly trailing his way up Jim's leg, marking his own scent into every crevice of Jim's body.

As he reached Jim's hipbone, Spock sucked on it lightly and delighted himself with Jim's long moan. He pulled back to survey his dishevelled bondmate, his heart pounding in his side as he locked eyes with Jim. The striking blue was almost entirely gone, eclipsed by dilated pupils. Jim's chest heaved with his ragged breaths.

Never had Spock seen anything so perfect.

Tanned hands reached down and tangled in Spock's science blues. Jim pulled at the fabric lightly, pouting up at Spock. Understanding Jim's wish, Spock undressed quickly and threw his clothes haphazardly over his shoulder.

He leant down and kissed the blonde once more, taking his time to re-explore Jim's mouth before drawing away. Spock brushed his hands along Jim's sides as he moved back down Jim's body. A small giggle escaped his mate's lips and Spock felt his own lips twitch in barely repressed mirth. His Jim would never cease to defy all his expectations.

Spock ran the sensitive tips of his fingers over the vein on the underside of Jim's erection. Up and down his fingers ran, drawing primal noises from Jim's throat.

"Spock." With one softly moaned word, Jim commanded him onward. Spock's blood roared through his veins, ancient Vulcan instincts demanding he give his mate any and all pleasure. Jim's form quivered and the reins of Spock's control began to snap.

A long feline tongue brushed against the base of Jim's hardened cock and drew it's way upwards. Spock lapped at the slit, categorising the tastes and textures. He nuzzled into the blonde curls and lifted Jim's hips, placing long legs over his shoulders. His tongue drew a long line down the cleft of Jim's ass, over his testicles and back. Tapered fingers wrapped around Jim's erection as Spock continued to tease Jim's entrance. As his hand squeezed and pumped, Spock's tongue pushed through the tight muscle and curled inside Jim.

"Ah!" Jim's body bowed, back arched in pleasure, heels digging into Spock's back. He continued to thrust his long tongue in and out, stretching Jim's tight hole.

A hand trailed down to his own leaking erection and he swiftly coated his fingers in the lubrication naturally produced by his body. Spock lent back, supporting his weight on one hand and ran his lubed fingers around Jim's entrance.

"Please." Brown locked with blue and held as Spock pushed the first finger through the ring of muscle. He closed his eyes as pleasure radiated through his body from the tight muscles pressing on his sensitive finger.

He thrust the appendage in and out, twisting slightly to drag along the edge of Jim's prostate. When Jim whined in frustration, Spock inserted another finger and began to scissor them, stretching the tight passage. Through the connection, Spock could feel Jim's mild discomfort and the subsequent flagging of his erection.

Removing his eyes from the arousing sight of his fingers entering his mate, Spock leant forward and wrapped his lips around Jim's member. A strangled sound escaped Jim's lips, pleasure and surprise thrummed between them.

Simultaneously, Spock deep throated Jim and inserted his third finger, swallowing around and stretching Jim at once. All thought fled Jim's mind, reducing him to guttural moans and incoherent mumbling.

Spock continued to stretch Jim, purposefully brushing against his prostate with every thrust. He bobbed his head up and down, sucking on the sensitised flesh and drawing his tongue along the vein. His teeth scrapped lightly as he drew back, tongue teasing Jim's slit and lapping up his mate's pre-cum.

Jim whimpered, pushing back on Spock's fingers and purposefully tightening his muscles around the intrusion while mentally pleading for more.

Answering his mate's call, Spock disengaged himself from Jim and gently reassured the fear which spiked through the mind entwined with his own. Spock's hand wrapped around his own erection and pumped twice, coating his flesh with his pre-cum.

Feeling Jim's need, he crawled back up Jim's body and pressed their lips together. He kissed Jim desperately, mouths open and sharing breath. Spock leant his forehead against Jim's and felt a moment of perfect ease. Then he moved, drawing himself up on his forearms to watch Jim's face as he gently pushed inside.

Inch by sensuous inch, Spock slid home, pausing once he was fully seated. He watched the flurry of expressions fly across Jim's open face and felt the numerous sensations and emotions bounce across their bond. His threadbare control was weakening, the need to crawl inside Jim's skin growing as each second passed.

Finally, Jim blinked up at him and twisted his hips slightly. A light, rumbling growl poured from his lips as the final thread of his control snapped.

Sharp hips drew back and pushed forward, rhythmically pounding into Jim's channel whilst gripping his hips with near bruising force.

Spock thrust into his mate, loving the feel of Jim surrounding him. The sounds of their copulation and Jim's pleasure. Jim's scent mixing with his own. Jim's mind, curled within the safety of his. The taste of Jim's mouth and the sweat trailing down his neck. The image burned into his retinas of his mate, head thrown back, blue eyes blazing with pleasure.

"More, please." Jim's voice was chocked, sounding more like a sob than anything. The thought of his mate, his Jim, pleading sent Spock spiralling further down into the primal depths of his people.

He picked up the pace, hips furiously ploughing into the pliant body beneath him. Jim wrapped his legs around Spock's waist, drawing him deeper. The changed angle ensured that his double ridge hit Jim's prostate with every hard thrust, drawing both men closer to the edge.

Heat pooled in Spock's lower stomach, urging him faster, harder, a siren's song of want and need and desperate pleasure.

He bucked into his mate, nipping possessive marks into his soft flesh as a single hand slid up Jim's writhing form to connect with his meld points.

Instantly, their minds drew together. Warmth and colour exploded behind their eyelids as any perception of self was lost. The very fabric of their souls knit together, fusing what was once two into a single entity. Mind, body and katra entwined, they reached their peak, Jim coating their stomachs while Spock released his seed deep within his mate.

It took precious seconds for Spock to regain his sense of self and remove his mind from Jim's. It took longer, to disentangle their bodies and move into the bathroom to fetch a damp towel. No doubt Jim would be uncomfortable come morning if he didn't clean up now.

After wiping them both down and throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry shoot, Spock resettled beside Jim. Unable to resist, now that he finally could, long Vulcan arms reached out and pulled the sated Human into the protective curve of his body. He pulled the blanket over their naked forms and wrapped an arm around Jim's waist, squeezed lightly and relaxed. At every point of contact, Spock could feel contentment and affection seeping through Jim's skin.

For the first time since his childhood, Spock drifted to sleep without meditating.

* * *

February 18

* * *

Upon waking, the first thing Spock did was check the bond. It hummed and twitched at the back of his mind, Jim's particular essence easy to distinguish from his own. As he prodded at the link he could taste apples. A fascinating phenomena and something he hadn't heard about before.

Had his mind given Jim his own taste? Or, was Jim broadcasting it unconsciously?

Spock drew back to the physical and looked down at his mate fondly. He could feel Jim's consciousness surging into wakefulness.

Blonde eyelashes fluttered, parting to reveal clouded blue eyes. It took a few blinks before remembrance crashed back into Jim's mind. A most interesting sensation.

Jim sat up straight and groaned, falling back onto the bed. Without taking his eyes off his bondmate, Spock reached behind himself and grabbed the pain medication provided by Dr McCoy. A short hiss later and Jim was glaring up at him.

"Spock, I-" Jim rubbed at the back of his neck, something Spock had come to understand was associated with feelings of uncertainty or nervousness among Humans.

"Our bond is settled now. You may leave me, if you wish." As soon as the words slipped from Spock's lips, a viscous wave of hurt smashed into him. He tilted his head, keen eyes analysing the minute amount of disappointment which crossed Jim's features.

"I'll just go then." He pushed the sheets back while Spock felt him gathering his courage and pushing down the feeling of... rejection?

Spock blinked, words replaying in his mind until he understood.

"I would much rather you stay. Jim." A blonde head snapped up, comically wide blue eyes meeting Spock's own. Relief and happiness flooded Spock's mind, the extent of which floored him.

"As you have not replied, I assume I should have used a different name. I believe your list of possibilities included Babe, Sex-Muffin and Gorgeous?" Spock was rewarded with Jim's clear laughter. His megawatt grin turned into a cheeky smile.

"You know, I'm kind of due for a proper shower. Would you like to join me?" Spock raised a single eyebrow.

It appeared his mate was insatiable.

"It would be logical to save water."

Luckily, Vulcan's didn't have refractory periods.


	9. Reflections

**This is the second last chapter of Distress. However, sometime in the future I will be uploading the story (with added chapters, background and plot) in chronological order. That may interest some people, I'm not sure. But, next chapter is the end. c:**

* * *

March 23, 2262

* * *

Jim was so angry he was shaking. He could distantly feel Spock's concern filtering through their bond.

Oh gods, their bond.

Jim grit his teeth and focused on loosening his fists from their stranglehold on the poor, innocent armrests. He took several measured breaths, waited until the sepia drained from his vision.

Once he'd calmed himself, Jim let his shoulders slump.

For a while he had been secretly agonising over this.

The admirals, more correctly Komack, had just finished an hour and a half lecture about fraternisation, emotional compromise and 'fleet regulations. Jim almost wished Spock had been there beside him.

Vulcans just had a way with people that left Jim slightly in awe. Without moving a single muscle, they could somehow convey that they thought you were being illogical, were beneath them and they were slightly interested in how you figured out basic mathematics, let alone something like warp technology. Which was still something every Vulcan child age, say 3, could do. Blindfolded.

Had Spock been there, he would have realised just how totally, completely, illogically, Jim was in love with him. How he would fight the admirals to keep the _accidental_ bond forged between them. Which was not the goal.

No, their mission was simple. Pick up Ambassador Sorrel, along with much needed supplies, from Starbase Nine and get them to New Vulcan post haste.

On Vulcan they would be told there was a week and a half of shore leave to cover the time for their bond to be broken.

This way, Spock would never find out his feelings. He would never look at him with disgust painted across his aristocratic features. He would never file for a transfer to a science vessel with a logical captain and a nice CMO and no ex at the communications station and older, experienced helmsmen and, and, and.

Jim focused on his breathing. In and out. In and out.

A single hand rubbed tiredly at his face and he pinched the bridge of his nose to delay the coming headache.

The door, previously locked, swished open and before Jim could lift his head to look at his intruder, arms plucked him out of his seat and against a warm chest. His hand pushed against the space between hip and ribcage, detecting the strong hummingbird heart.

It was this side of Spock which simultaneously gave him hope and crushed it.

He was just so gentle and caring. He'd seen Jim's worst side and hadn't raised an eyebrow. He'd held Jim through the night and listened to stories about children who had never grown up. He'd intruded on nightmares and changed their direction. He'd created somewhere safe, just for James Kirk and no one had ever done that before.

Spock had even let Jim see the torment of Vulcan.

It had solidified the idea that Spock was every awesome superhero rolled into one and then some.

And like every awesome, kick ass superhero, he did it all unconditionally. It wasn't because Jim was his superior officer, nor his bondmate, friend, etc. Spock just treated every living organism with respect and he cared _so deeply_ about everything. Even Romulans.

Gods, he was going to miss this.

After a few minutes, Jim straightened himself and smiled weakly up at Spock.

"I, sorry about that. We've got a new mission. We're due at Starbase Nine in three hours then we're heading for New Vulcan and we'll finally be free of this bond." He couldn't bring himself to face Spock, instead looking at his feet and trying not to break apart in front of him.

"As the bond is something neither of us consented to, I would have thought you would be relieved to be rid of it." Elegant fingers shifted under Jim's chin and lifted his face until he was forced to meet Spock's eyes.

"I just sat through a condescending lecture about fraternisation and from what I know of the regs the only thing they could bitch me out for was not informing them of the change in relationship before we got hitched. There was no change in relationship! We never dated. They chewed me out for something that didn't even happen and I couldn't even get a word in." Jim stopped to catch his breath.

"They were implying that you're emotionally compromised and talking about transfers. I couldn't- it's not true!" Jim trembled slightly and Spock squeezed him closer.

"You are angry on my behalf because you did not have the opportunity to defend me?" Spock's voice was soft, his breath caressing Jim's cheek with each exhale.

"I just didn't want them to think- you're Vulcan and you're just not. It doesn't matter." Jim could feel himself pouting.

"I am half-Human, Jim."

"Yeah, but you're Vulcan. You live to the Vulcan precepts. You were raised the Vulcan way. You're Vulcan." He stared resolutely into Spock's eyes and watched as they softened.

"I thank thee."


	10. Ni'var

**I know it's been a while, sorry, I've just moved house (** my notes are in a box somewhere :c **), city, uni and changed my degree. Stressful days.**

 **To anyone who reviewed and I didn't get back to, I love you very much. You make me laugh and smile like a loon and** ** _want_** **to write more chapters. You're awesome. c:**

 **This is the last chapter. A lot happens. Including porn! Happy reading!**

 **Ni'var: duality; two halves which make unity**

 **fa-ko-mekh: grandmother**

 **ko-mekh: mother**

 **sa-mekh: father**

 **lirpa, ahn-woon: traditional Vulcan melee weapons**

* * *

March 30, 2263

* * *

Spock felt the moment James broke their bond. He heard the snap. Felt the ground rush up to meet him. The inside of his head was empty. There was no real pain to speak of. It was more a sense of confusion and loss and disorientation so strong he didn't think he'd ever be able to stand again. It hurt to think of Jim. Captain. James.

James was safe. He had no memory of using the name on... him. It didn't mean, it didn't mean anything. Nothing meant anything.

Spock felt something touching him. Warm hands soothing over his psi-points. _Fa-ko-mekh_? He wanted his _ko-mekh_. Her curly hair. Her soft brown eyes. The way she made him feel loved and accepted, if only he would let her.

 _Ko-mekh?_

He felt like a child again. His fractured mind sought out his mother's bond desperately. But it was broken. As broken as he was. Incomplete without his mate.

 _Sa-mekh?_

That bond was still there. Weak with time and distance but there, shining thorough the dilapidated centre of his _katra_.

Spock felt the hand leave his face as other voices rushed towards him. It took him a few moments but he recognised Doctor McCoy's gruff tone. It was reassuring. James would be cared for and Spock could sink into his mind and rearrange things to cover the gaping hole.

"Scotty, if you value your job, you'll beam three straight to medbay."

* * *

April 15, 2262

* * *

"Leonard, I can't tell you any more. They've both retreated far into their minds. Bonds are more than mind voodoo, they're connections of the soul. You can't rush treatment on that. I'm sorry." Spock listened to Dr. M'Benga, feeling faintly guilty. If he could break the trance early, he would have. He feared Dr. McCoy's mental health would suffer further deterioration if the waiting game lasted much longer.

"I know, I know the stupid green blooded idiot needs healing. But why is Jim in a coma? Are they close to waking? Will they be alright?" Spock could feel McCoy's gaze on his skin like a live wire. He forced himself not to retreat further into his own mind. He could... fix the damage and pay attention to the conversation the doctors were having. It wasn't likely to offer new information but any update on James' status would be welcome.

It was more disconcerting than he'd first realised, not having a bond. Like missing an appendage when he knew his body was whole. Relying on infrequent, unsatisfactory reports to assess _his_ condition felt wrong. Every time Spock had to stop himself from simply checking through the bond. It hurt a whole lot more when he was visually reminded of his failures.

Over the last two weeks Spock had been busy fixing the wound in his _katra_. When the bond had been broken, it had been plucked right out. The bond which was formed from the very threads of his _katra_ interweaving with James' own. Part of Spock's _katra_ was ripped from him. Freely given, the transference of one's _katra_ was painless. To have it yanked out against his will was to lose part of himself. One could not grow a new _katra_. Spock was left questioning whether the hole would ever heal.

The frayed edges had already softened. It was almost time to wake up. Starfleet needed it's best command crew. Enterprise needed it's captain.

"Perhaps I should put in a call, tell them I can't make the conference." McCoy had moved closer, hand now resting over Spock's forehead. His telepathy spiked, reaching out to the unguarded mind. The hand brushed his bangs out of the way. They had grown too long. Spock was overdue for a haircut. The fingers settled on his temple, lightly following a scar from his childhood. He could feel the conflicting Human emotions.

Fear. Loss. Sorrow. Pain. Anxiety. Hope. Love.

The inside of Spock's mind preened. Slowly, out of the uniform darkness, colours began to appear.

"Leonard, whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it! His vitals are up 15%." Spock, normally lost in the face of Human emotionalism and expression, could hear the joy and excitement in M'Benga's voice. They cared. They truly cared. Not just for James. For Spock. It was an odd sensation. It was nice.

"What? Touching his face?"

"I don't know. What are you thinking about? Vulcan's are telepathically 'open' whilst in trances. He could be picking up on your surface thoughts?" The commotion was drawing attention from the nurses. Chapel's distinctive perfume made his nose itch.

"Damn it man! I'm thinking about what to say when I cancel my bookings so I can stay here." McCoy's frustration and worthlessness coloured Spock's world. It was weird to think of the harsh doctor feeling such things in regards to Spock's own care. More often than not, McCoy would pick on anything Spock did or said to argue with him. Before Kahn, he'd resembled the bullies of Spock's youth, with his constant insults and argumentative manner. After Kirk's revival, there had been a certain understanding. The barbs had been less biting. They were not friends but, getting there.

"Ok, that isn't it." M'Benga was pacing to Spock's left. It was not an unusual motion for the doctor to take when trying to think of a solution to a particularly difficult problem.

"You know, it might be nothing, but his brother..." M'Benga started. His hands were tapping against his legs.

"Sybok's a pretty powerful empath. Doesn't happen very often but they make amazing mind healers. If Spock's got latent empathic abilities, or hasn't mentioned them, because god knows unless you ask a Vulcan directly they don't tell you anything, he could be picking up on your emotional state and using it as a sort of booster."

Was it unusual for Vulcan's to pick up emotions? Spock had never thought about it. Sybok was always infringing on everyone's feelings. It seemed normal, in comparison. Then again, compared to Sybok, McCoy was normal. And wasn't that a truly horrifying thought.

Surprise. Hope. Determination. Loneliness. Worry. Confusion.

"How do I feel things at him?" McCoy's hand stopped gently stroking his skin. M'Benga chuckled.

"You're thinking about it too much. But it's still working. He's at 65%. Almost-"

"Doctor McCoy, it's the captain! I was changing his fluids and his hand twitched. His heart rate's accelerating and his cranial activity is almost back to normal."

Astonishment. Relief. Joy. Love. Excitement. Expectancy.

Spock's eyes opened to see a beaming Doctor McCoy and a positively giddy Doctor M'Benga.

"I do believe it would be in your best interest to check on the captain." Spock sat up and rolled his shoulders before raising an eyebrow at their expectant faces. M'Benga laughed as McCoy blushed and hurried into the next room, muttering under his breath about 'ungrateful hobgoblins'.

* * *

April 27, 2262

* * *

"If you need me, call, or I swear to god, I will hypo you within an inch of your god damn fool life and then release your medical history to the press." Spock watched the captain pat the doctor on the shoulder. A flash of jealousy flooded through him. It took considerable effort to confine the vicious emotion for later reflection.

"You worry too much Bones. I'll be fine, I'm not even going on shore leave. It'll be me, Enterprise and the engineers." Jim smiled and pulled the doctor in for a hug.

"Have fun. Do nerdy doctor stuff." Before the doctor could reply, Jim nodded his head and both men on the transporter pad were gone. Jim's smile fell, blue eyes dulling. It would be a long, awkward week without McCoy's presence between them.

Part of Spock rebelled at the need for the doctor's presence, even though their relationship had vastly improved since their awakening.

A rush of heat surged through Spock, accompanied by the need to hit something. He pushed it down immediately, having gotten used to the weird aggressive needs of late. The first time he had experienced them, Spock had made a call to T'Pau. She had explained them as an after effect of the breaking of his bond. Whilst the bond was in place, he had other methods of releasing emotion. It had been one of the many conversations Spock, quite illogically, wished he'd never begun. It rated somewhere between the time when he was seven and asked Sybok why _ko-mekh_ and _sa-mekh_ were away on a holiday without them and when he'd had to explain Pon Farr to both Dr. McCoy and M'Benga.

Spock leaned passed the captain and hit the button for deck seven. A little exercise would hopefully burn off some of his frustration. Although the bridge master might personally come after him if he were to destroy any more of the training dummies. A punching bag would suffice. He just needed to punch something until his knuckles bled. It was a shame they didn't have any moving targets or another Vulcan on board. Practise with his _lirpa_ or _ahn-woon_ would be more than welcome.

"Spock, we need to talk. This is effecting our command it's-"

"Bridge to captain, we have a transition from Command, sir." James flipped open his comm and stared at it for a few seconds, clearly torn.

"Have it sent to my ready room. I'll be there momentarily. Kirk out." The turbolift door slid open and Spock made his hasty escape. Being close to the captain was clouding his logic. He needed space, time and something to rip apart.

* * *

May 2, 2262

* * *

In a way it was like being distanced from his body, an outsider watching through eyes that used to be his. He had almost no control over his actions. Enough not to kill the ridiculous security personnel attempting to corral and trap him. It wasn't much but something was better than nothing. Or rather, better than knowing their deaths were on his hands.

Such stupid, feeble Humans. It was so easy, with their weak bodies and foolish minds, to deceive, separate and attack them.

Jim was Human. Jim with his pretty eyes and his big, warm smile and his perfect mind.

They were keeping him away from Jim. But that didn't feel right. Not to Spock, at least. Nothing could stop Jim from getting what he wanted. He was a force of nature, barely leashed. Spock needed that. Needed him to stop the pain and the hunger and the want. His blood burned. Each pump of his heart sent agony through his veins. His mind searching for his Jim's. Where was Jim? And Spock remembered. Jim left him, didn't want him.

Spock crumbled in on himself. Let the phaser stun him. Let the Humans move him back into the brig. His Jim didn't need him. The _plak tow_ would burn it's course. He would take no other mate. Was too far gone for saving, regardless.

Behind the force field, Spock watched as the red shirts shifted wearily. He had already escaped once. It would take more than convincing the guard to get close enough, enter his mind and get the Human puppet to let him out. Spock felt his eyes change, a light itching as his body began to activate the previously unused rod cells in his retina. If Vulcan had survived, ShiKahr would be approaching darkness. His eyes had adjusted accordingly, to improve his ability to see in the dark and protect his mate from the dangers it housed.

On a starship it was as useless as the armour which coloured the skin beneath his shirt.

With trembling hands, Spock removed his shirts, the two layers uncomfortable against his sensitive skin. He turned in a circle, eyes searching for an exit whilst he listened to the arguing Humans. They were debating locking the outer door.

There.

Spock ran his hands along the wall panels, sensitive fingers feeling each weak point in the wall. This would do.

He drew a hand back and struck the wall with an open palm, bending the thick metal. Again and again he systematically hit the panel until it was warped enough to simply pop free. From there, Spock reached inside and pulled at the wires, careful enough not to break them and alert anyone to his escape. If he was to die, he would do so in his own space.

Once the contents were sufficiently displaced, Spock entered the cavity and began to wiggle his way through. Every other minute, or thereabout, he ran his hands along the wall, feeling the vibrations of the containment field. Once he was free of it, he turned, braced his back against the wall and kicked out. The metal bent enough to fit his fingers through the crack.

"What's wrong with him, ensign?" Spock paused, his blood boiling, as he heard Jim's voice. His beloved, golden Jim. Here as his captain, superior officer, friend but never his mate. Holding on with only his fingers, Spock pushed with his palm and distorted the door enough to remove it, exit and prop it against the floor.

"Spock? Hey Spock, it's Jim, are you alright?" Panicked, Spock search for somewhere to hide. If he saw his Jim, there would be no guarantee the he could hold himself together. In the past, Vulcans had been known to force their chosen into the bond with the violence of Pon Farr. It was possible all he would do was beg for his mate back and humiliate them both before dying. Or worse, Jim agreed, to save his life. He could not, would not be a burden. Was it so wrong to want love and acceptance from his life partner? Love and acceptance like his parents shared.

Just before Jim walked into view, Spock jumped up above the door and held himself in place.

Jim stepped into the room. Spock felt a shift in his _katra_. He craved.

With precise, silent movements, Spock landed on the floor, locked the door and ripped off the keypad. His eyes tracked Jim's movements. Keeping to Jim's back, he slunk over to the other side of the room. His Jim had noticed his escape and the jammed door but apparently not his continued presence.

As Spock shifted, the floor creaked and Jim stilled. From across the room, Spock listened to his heart rate accelerate and breathing become more shallow. Like prey, trapped by a predator.

Spock kept his eyes on Jim as he turned slowly. Seeing his mate, face to face, nearly undid the last vestiges of Spock's control. For a few minutes nothing happened as Jim continued to watch him wearily. Then, ever unpredictable, he raised his hands in a rather suggestive, submissive manner. Which couldn't be right because his Jim didn't want him. Had taken part of him away in his effort to be free of Spock.

Jim walked forward cautiously, eyes travelling over Spock's exposed chest with interest. The warrior markings he wore, ancient armour of his ancestors. They were carved into his skin, mind and _katra_ after his _kahs wan_ and only reappearing in extreme losses of emotional control. The Golic words, written by the head priestess, Alveria, depicted the personal dangers and challenges he'd faced and would face in the future.

Death. Chaos. Hatred. Sorrow.

" _Spock, what's wrong? I want to help. Let me fix this_." Jim was within reach, everything he wanted, needed and couldn't have. He shouldn't have come. Spock wasn't worth it.

" _T'hy'la? You have come to me. Why?_ " Spock's throat felt like it was filled with rocks, straining each breath, each word. He strained against himself, wrestling with the temptation to take Jim in his arms and squirrel them away somewhere no one could find them. To merge their bodies until they were inseparable.

" _Parted from me and never parted_." Jim moved forward, hand outstretched in invitation. His too blue eyes glowed in the sterile setting, determined and clear. It was an offer Spock could not, would not refuse. It wasn't as if he'd ever really had a chance. Jim Kirk made him feel. In an instant, he stood before Jim, chest to chest. Jim breached the final millimetre between them, sinking bonelessly into Spock.

" _Mine_ , Jim." Possessive instinct raged beneath Spock's skin, his world shifting on it's axis to reorientate around Jim. His everything.

* * *

Spock ripped Jim's gold command tunic and black under shirt off with one hasty tug. Black dress pants were next to go and then Jim was kneeling in the middle of his bed, watching expectantly as Spock divested himself of the rest of his own clothes. A golden arm grabbed at Spock's, fingers tangling and sending electric sparks flying between them. Spock fell to his knees, free hand searching blindly for the lube while he drunk in the sight of his naked partner. The cool surface met his burning touch and his hands wrapped around the bottle.

The blood fever was almost overpowering. He needed Jim, his cool skin to sate the searing of his Vulcan heritage. And although he burned he would rather die than harm his mate. He couldn't lose whatever control he had left. His mate was Human and precious.

"Spock, please." Jim whined and it took all Spock's training not to simply pound into him.

Instead he steadied his shaking hands and flipped open the lid. Instantly, the smell of apples invaded his superior senses. Spock was fairly certain -his memories weren't really all that accessible at that point in time- Jim didn't have flavoured lube the last time they had sex. He growled at the briefest thought of Jim with someone else.

Mine.

With only the slightest of issues, Spock coated three fingers in the sweet scented lubricant. He slid the first in, right up to the knuckle. Spock could feel Jim's impatience and need as he clenched around the sensitive digit. Ever happy to oblige his mate, he slid the finger out and added another, stretching Jim while he located his prostate.

His cock leaked as he watched his fingers being swallowed in avid fascination. How he would love to take his time. Draw orgasm from Jim, over and over. Claim him so thoroughly no one would ever doubt the sincerity of his affections.

Spock slid his fingers in and out of Jim, stimulating his prostate with each pass. This was Vulcan heaven.

Three fingers was a bit of a squeeze. It had been too long since they had last done this. Much too long. He could feel the residue of his control splintering even as Jim loosened around him.

He couldn't take it anymore.

The tattered remnants of rational thought left his head as Spock lined his slicked erection to Jim's puckered entrance. Inhumanly hot hands gripped Jim's waist in a possessive hold. Spock felt Jim's desire to be marked through bites and bruises and tightened his grip over his mate's jutting hipbones. The rough treatment would definitely leave bruises.

In one smooth motion, Spock jerked his hips forward and buried himself to the hilt within Jim. Only a moment passed before he pulled out and thrusted forward again and again, setting a brutal pace.

"Spock, Spock, oh gods, please Spock." Jim was moaning and wreathing beneath him, trying to match each possessive thrust.

"Please. Harder." Spock growled his approval and snapped his hips forward, filling Jim once more. With each impossibly deep thrust, he could feel Jim tightening around his cock, drawing them both closer to orgasm.

"Jim." Spock chocked out, sounding somewhat like a desperate animal. His hips rolled as he rammed himself into his mate, hitting his prostate with excessive force. They were so close. Just on the edge of ecstasy.

Spock reached around and turned Jim's face. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes screwed shut. They opened, barely more than a ring of blue surrounding his blown pupils. Breathless moans brushed against Spock's lips as he descended for a kiss and slipped his tongue inside Jim's mouth. His taste was everything he remembered. His tongue just as eager for battle and just as ready to submit. It was heady to have his mate like this. To see his captain so undone. It painted the most beautiful, lewd picture.

Moulded to Jim's back, he released his mouth to suck and bite along the back of his neck. Jim spread his legs wider and bucked back, sending Spock deeper. He impaled himself with feverish abandon, consumed by the ancient fire of Spock's blood.

The velvet walls wrapped around Spock's shaft tightened. It was almost too much and yet, never enough.

The sound of slapping skin filled the room, driving their mutual need. Jim arched back as Spock continued to drive vigorously into him. Spock's hand slipped down Jim's toned body, teasing pink nipples along the way. Having found it's target, he pumped Jim's erection in time to his thrusts.

Spock could feel his impending orgasm through the tightening in his belly. His free hand released Jim's hip and moved to cover his psi-points.

"Please, yes, please." With his mate's assent, he connected their minds fully and white flashes appeared almost instantaneously behind his eyelids. Jim, driven by their lust and the additional sensations, came. Hard. Spock, followed seconds later, howling and bucking into Jim as he filled him with his hot seed.

He pulled out and Jim turned himself around with a slight wince. Spock watched with warm, affectionate eyes as Jim reached up and traced the line of his eyebrows.

"I love you." His voice was soft, reverent and those eyes stared up innocently. The edges of Spock's mouth twitched.

"And I, you." Sapphire eyes turned smouldering as tanned legs wrapped around Spock's waist. He ground up into Spock's erection and waggled his eyebrows.

"Think you can handle another round?" Jim asked with a cheeky wink.

"I will defer to your good judgement, captain. However, I do believe it is I who should be asking whether you are 'up to another round'."


End file.
